


Softly Sings the Night

by The_Goblin



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-19 09:23:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19354126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Goblin/pseuds/The_Goblin
Summary: Obi-Wan considers the dying light.





	Softly Sings the Night

Obi-Wan could hear it—the siren song curling through the evening air.

 

He threw his head back and laughed: a shrill, manic laugh, eyes watering at the corners. _Of course_. Of course, the first karking quiet he'd had in _weeks_ and there'd be no peace for him.

This war had gone on for almost three years and he was _tired_. He was tired of sending good men to their deaths. Tired of inept bureaucrats and their petty squabbles. Tired of the worn lines on his Grandpadawan's face. Tired of the ceaseless moral compromises.

His chest heaved sharp, shallow breaths. The cool air burned his lungs.

He'd felt it on Naboo. He'd felt it on Zigoola. After years of intergalactic warfare, darkness now permeated all but the holiest places. It was hard to notice when he spent his days running from system to system, breaking blockades, bringing freedom in the name of the Republic, and leading a slave army. Never _diplomacy_ , stars forbid they try that.

Obi-Wan could only hear it when the surrounding chaos died down. Then it sang softly to him, during peaceful moments and meditations, like the wind through the tall grass beyond the patio. It was almost soothing, if he'd allow it.

He was tired, and despite initial success in the Sieges, there was no end in sight. He knew that if he were to simply give himself to the sweet music he could end the war, save his men, free Anakin to a happy life with his paramour. Fingers dug into his thighs, pushing his knees into the stone, like some vain mockery of grounding.

Obi-Wan had to keep telling himself that Qui-Gon deserved better. Xanatos broke the man's heart. Then again, Qui-Gon wasn't around anymore, was he? A year ago he'd also told himself that Anakin deserved a better Master, but at this point his former Padawan might not object to ending things by whatever means necessary. And wasn't _that_  a comforting thought?

Another shrill giggle bubbled up in his chest.

He was tired. If only he were to let go, he would find salvation, relief. Perhaps he'd let it take him tonight. Perhaps he'd banish it again, to shoo it back into a corner for another day. Obi-Wan hadn't decided yet.

So he sat: attempting to meditate in the cool, purple and indigo twilight of a freshly-liberated planet, pondering oblivion.

**Author's Note:**

> Or, if you prefer poetry--
> 
> So he sat:  
> attempting to meditate,  
> in the cool,  
> indigo tinged evening,  
> pondering oblivion.


End file.
